


This Looked So Much Easier on The Food Network

by ChaoticDemon



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad Cooking, Did I mention fluff?, Fluff, Like, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, This is what happens when an aromantic writes romance, a super small non-graphic amount, a teeny bit of blood, everyone lives in the tower together just because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:29:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6750280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticDemon/pseuds/ChaoticDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bucky Barnes and Tony Stark tried and failed to make something edible and one time they succeeded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Looked So Much Easier on The Food Network

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celtic7irish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/gifts).



> For the prompt "Cooking disasters & kitchen mishaps."

1.

Tony knew that he wasn't a great cook. It wasn't really a necessary skill when you could afford to have other people cook for you. Still, every once in a while he liked to try his hand at it, just to see if he had magically improved overnight. So far that hadn't worked out for him, but he had decided that today was the day. If Alton Brown could do it, then so could he. This couldn't possibly be as difficult as he remembered. His new found conviction had absolutely nothing to do with the tower's new resident. Definitely not. It's not like the lost expression that was perpetually on Bucky's face brought out the nurturing instincts that he had so carefully hidden away. Nope. That was definitely not why he was currently in the communal kitchen trying to blink tears out of his eyes while he attempted to chop some onions.

“You're holding the knife wrong,” Natasha stated from her spot at the table, not looking away from the magazine he was reading.

Tony attempted to sniff derisively, but all it did was make his eyes water more. Everything was blurry now, blocked as it was by a layer of tears. “Am not,” he said, blinking furiously, “How can I be holding a knife wrong? It's a knife. It's not like this is rocket science.”

Steve, for his part, was hovering awkwardly at his elbow, watching Tony's cooking endeavors with the usual apprehension. With every slice of the knife, the supersoldier's hands twitched as though he wanted to reach out and take the knife away from him. Apparently, Tony's amateur efforts offended the other man, who was a much better cook “You're going to cut yourself,” he said. Tony ignored him and made a few more clumsy movements with the knife. “Everything has to be about the same size or it won't cook properly. Why don't you just let me do this?” Tony made a shooing motion in his direction with the hand holding the knife. The Captain ducked. “Or not,” he muttered as he retreated to a safe distance, joining Bucky who was lingering in the corner.

Satisfied with this achievement, Tony went back to mangling the vegetable on the counter in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the flash of light on metal. That was Bucky's arm, he realized, the artificial one. He wished he could get a better look at it, sometime when he could actually see properly. Maybe Hydra's former plaything would let him work on it sometime?

Steve made a wounded sort of noise and Tony focused his attention back down to his hands. There was a growing blotch of scarlet that hadn't been there before. “Huh,” he said, placing the knife down on the cutting board.

Natasha flipped the page in her magazine and continued reading. “I told you that you were holding it wrong."

 

2.

Bucky was making soup and it smelled amazing. The scent had been enough to draw Tony out from the other room and the genius could only assume that the reason it hadn't attracted anyone else was because they were the only two in the tower. It was better this way, really. This would make it easier to try and talk Barnes into sharing.

“What are you making?” Tony asked aloud, striding into the room as though he hadn't been lurking in the doorway for the past few minutes.

Bucky didn't seem startled by his appearance. “Tomato soup,” he replied, flashing the other man a quick, tentative smile.

“It smells good,” he said, taking a seat at the kitchen table, “Were you just craving soup or something?”

Bucky gave the pot a quick stir. “Sort of. Mostly I just wanted to try out the blender,” he admitted.

That was actually really cute. Tony cleared his throat and shifted a little in his seat. “Whatever you do, don't forget to put the lid on it before you turn it on.” At Bucky's quizzical look he added, “no lid equals big mess.”

Barnes nodded and fished a leaf out of the pot with a spoon. He ladled some of the soup into the blender, placed the lid on it securely, and pressed the power button. A smile broke out on the man's face as he watched the liquid smooth out. Tony found it difficult not to stare.

When the soup in the blender was nice and creamy, Bucky poured it out into a clean pot and filled the glass container up with more. He added the lid and pressed the power button again, clearly just as excited to repeat the action as he had been to try it in the first place. It was contagious and Tony couldn't help but grin himself as Barnes emptied out the appliance again and transferred the rest of the chunky soup to the blender. Bucky turned on the power.

Tony realized what was going to happen just in time to duck beneath the table. The floor became spattered with tiny pools of creamy red. He peeked above the surface of his impromptu shield and bit back a laugh. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Bucky blinked for a moment before he looked down at himself. He gingerly plucked the fabric of his shirt between two metal fingers as he held it away from himself. “I see what you meant by a big mess.”

 

3.

Tony was pretty sure that he had it this time. He had managed to avoid injuring himself again, he hadn't burnt anything, and the food even smelled good. It was perfect enough to make him a little nervous. Picking up his tablet, he ran through the recipe again and mentally ticked off each ingredient; he was certain that he'd added everything. Sneaking a glance at Bucky, who was staring at his culinary creation with interest, he dug out a pair of spoons. “Want to taste?” he asked casually.

“I'm not sure,” Bucky responded, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a hint of a smile. “It looks and smells okay, but coming from you that's probably a bad sign.”

“Ha ha,” Tony said flatly as he scooped a little of the food up with each spoon. “Like you're one to talk.” He handed one of the utensils over to the other man. “On three?”

Bucky nodded and the two men braced themselves as Tony counted. When he reached three they stuck the spoons in their mouths. The kitchen was silent for a long moment. Bucky slid the utensil all the way out of his mouth, placed it on the counter, and swallowed. “How?” he asked, face carefully blank.

Tony wrinkled his nose. “I'm not sure.” It came out as almost a question. “I don't understand why this is so hard. It's just science. I'm awesome at science!”

Bucky hummed in what Tony assumed was agreement. “You know,” he said slowly, “we could probably trick Steve into eating some of this if we don't tell him you made it.”

Tony bit back a snort of laughter.

“Just imagine his face,” Bucky continued, his own now sporting a full-fledged grin.

This time Tony didn't bother holding back. He leaned against the counter and laughed until he cried.

 

4.

Tony was trying not to laugh, he really was, but every time he looked at the lumps sitting on the counter he could feel the hilarity bubble up in his chest. “What happened?” he asked once he felt as though he could keep a straight face for longer than five seconds. Standing next to him, Bucky gave a baffled shrug. “I mean,” he continued, biting the inside of his cheek as hard as he dared, “was the frosting liquid before you put it on the cupcakes?”

He turned to look at the other man and was surprised to see that Bucky's cheeks were tinted pink. “Are you embarrassed?” he asked before he could stop himself. Bucky's shoulders hunched ever so slightly and Tony rushed to continue talking. “Why? I mean, don't get me wrong, this is pretty bad, but can you imagine how much worse these would have been if I'd made them?” He was relieved to see a small smile form on Bucky's face. “I'm pretty sure my hypothetical cupcakes would have exploded or become sentient or something.”

Bucky's posture relaxed and the excess pink faded from his face. “I'm not sure Steve's forgiven us for cooking for him yet,” he said, eyes sparkling. Tony was having trouble dragging his gaze away from the sight. “I'm still not sure how these managed to be both burnt and undercooked, though.”

Tony hummed in absent agreement. “Why were you making cupcakes anyway?” He was expecting an answer along the lines of an ambiguous shrug or even something about wanting to try out the equipment; what he was not expecting was for Bucky's face to flush scarlet. That was interesting. “Well?” he prompted when it became obvious that the other man wasn't intending to answer.

Bucky looked everywhere except at the genius as he mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “they were for you,” but that couldn't be right. Tony was obviously mishearing things. The other man's eyes darted to meet his and Tony raised an eyebrow in question. Somehow, Bucky's face turned a shade darker. Barnes cleared his throat. “They were for you,” he repeated a little shakily, this time a normal volume. Huh. So he'd heard right the first time.

“Me? That's... Why?” asked Tony, mystified.

Bucky apparently found his shoes pretty interesting because he hooked his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and stared at the ground. “You've just...” He trailed off and wrinkled his nose a little. It was adorable. “I know Pepper and Steve have been working you pretty hard, with your company and the superhero gig, and I've noticed you haven't been sleeping well. And then you spent your birthday fighting those giant rats. I just...” Bucky shrugged. “I wanted to do something nice for you,” he finished softly.

Tony wasn't wasn't sure what to say. There was a strange squirming sensation in his belly that he didn't have a name for. He wasn't sure he was quite ready to find out what it was. “Have you ever seen the Princess Bride?” he blurted out.

Bucky snapped his head up to stare at him and Tony felt the tips of his ears tingle as blood rushed to them. “We should go watch it,” he continued before the other man could respond, “right now.” He ushered the larger man toward the living room and toward the large screen contained therein. Smooth, he thought to himself, that was very smooth. “After we're done we can box up those cupcakes and leave them outside the nearest Hydra agent 's door as a warning.” Bucky chuckled. That was better.

 

5.

The way Tony figured it, either Bucky's and his culinary skills would cancel each other out and they'd produce something edible or their talents would combine to create an even bigger disaster than either of them had managed to create on their own. So far it seemed as though it was going to be the first option. It was pleasant, a comfortable silence filling the kitchen as the two of them bustled around. Tony was pretty sure that the food would be pleasant, too, and they wouldn't even have to share it with anyone else. Clint had walked into the kitchen earlier and, upon seeing the two of them working together, had walked right back out; Tony felt that this had been an extremely unfair reaction since they hadn't even managed to set anything on fire yet. Regardless, the archer had managed to convince the rest of the team to vacate the tower for the afternoon, presumably to avoid any potential fall out should their culinary adventures go horribly wrong.

Whatever. This way left him alone with Bucky, and Tony wasn't going to complain about that. Not when it was such fun to watch the way his nose crinkled when he was concentrating or how the flex of his metal bicep matched the movement of his flesh one. Or the way tendrils of his hair ghosted against the back of his neck. How his back muscles moved under his shirt. No, Tony was never going to have a problem watching Bucky.

“Thanks,” the man in question said almost shyly, “for doing this with me.”

It took a moment for Tony to gather his thoughts. “I should be thanking you. I think you're the only person I know that will still let me anywhere near a stove.”

Bucky grinned at him. “They don't want me near any sort of heat source, either.” A beat. “I wasn't just talking about cooking with me, though.” He stirred the pot in front of him with a great amount of concentration. “I meant spending time with me. I know I'm not the most social person around, but I do appreciate it.”

Tony blinked. “I like spending time with you.” Why would he think otherwise?

“Yeah?” Bucky's smile was starting to lean towards beaming and Tony wasn't entirely certain what he was supposed to do. “I like spending time with you, too.”

Apparently, the proper response to that was for Tony's smile to match the other man's. “Really?”

Bucky's grin was very broad now. “Really.” Tony wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he was happy as long as that joyful expression was still on Barnes' face. There was only one thing he could think of that would make this moment better. Slowly, he leaned in towards the other man. Just as slowly, Bucky leaned in towards him.

Their moment was interrupted by the high pitched beeping of the fire alarm and the mad rush to extinguish the pot.

 

+1

The two of them had a rhythm going. Bucky would pass two slices of bread to Tony who slathered one with peanut butter and the other with any of the five varieties of jam that had been lined up on the counter top. He'd press the slices together and hand the resulting sandwich back to Bucky, who would carefully remove the crusts and cut the sandwich into four little triangles. He'd arrange those carefully on a plate before handing off two new slices of bread to Tony, beginning the cycle again.

The stack of sandwiches was getting perilously high by the time they ran out of bread. Bucky wasn't actually sure if they could manage to eat them all, but he supposed that if worse came to worse they could probably get Thor to finish them. The god had joined the rest of the team in the tower only recently and had yet to be warned about what the duo was capable of in the kitchen.

“You know,” Tony said, leaning into Bucky's side and making the point of contact buzz with a pleasant warmth, “you didn't have to cut the crusts off.”

Bucky gave a little shrug and wrapped an arm around the other man's waist. “It's fancier without them.”

Tony snorted. “Is that why you cut them up into the tiny triangles? To be fancy?”

“This is a date. It's supposed to be fancy.” Bucky adored the way that Tony looked at him right then, soft and indulgent and joyous. He was going to hold onto the memory of it forever, no matter what.

“I can get some candles,” Tony offered, picking up their dinner and carrying it to the table. “I can even get a candelabra or two if you want to get really fancy.”

Bucky dug two glasses out of the cabinet and followed him. “Sound's good,” he said, “but just so you know, I always feel fancy when I'm with you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact: The blender was invented in 1922.


End file.
